I have neighbours next door, an older married couple, and living with them is their daughter and her three girls. Her name is Eleanora name thats often whispered with a touch of pity or disdain. The talk on the street is always the same: Eleanor, at thirty, with three daughters, each by a different father. It’s said she got married for the first time at just eighteen. The boy, Jonathan, was besotted with her; her parents didnt argue, who doesnt want their child to be happy?
They managed five years together, but there were never any children. People, as they do, began to speculate. The blame fell on Eleanor, of course. Gossip had it shed lived too freely before she turned eighteen and now, some said, she might never bear children.
She found no kindness from her mother-in-law, a stern woman from Yorkshire, always telling her son that he deserved better, that a womans duty was to bear children and keep the family going. In the end, Jonathan listened to his mother and left. The divorce came, but Eleanor couldnt be bothered with the paperwork of reverting to her maiden nameLeave it, she said, its less trouble that way.
Then came another man, fleeting like English summer, and suddenly she was expecting. Turns out, Eleanor wasnt the problem after allit was Jonathan. But none of that mattered. The baby arrived, but the father was nowhere to be seen, vanished as quickly as hed appeared. With no other choice, Eleanor registered the child with her former husbands surname.
Eleanors mother doted on the baby, desperate for grandchildren. After some time, Eleanor again announced she was expecting. This time, at least, shed married againSimon, a quiet man who hadnt planned on children so soon. Life, however, cares little for plans. A daughter was born, frail and facing health challenges from the start. Simon bolted in fear, abandoning wife and child without so much as a word about divorce.
Time passed, and Eleanor met yet another man. Against her parents wishesthey worried about how shed manage, mouths to feed and not enough moneyshe decided to have another child. Another daughter was born, and, as before, her father disappeared, leaving her alone. This time, the baby bore a new surname.
At least shed managed to buy a small flather parents had helped with the deposit. But after tension and arguments at home, Eleanor realised she would need money for her three children. She tried to seek help from the fathers, applying for child support, but none accepted responsibilitysome ran, others sent threats.
And so thats how it stands for Eleanor. Children, yes, but what good has it done her? Her struggles go on, and it seems she faces hardship once more. The neighbourhood talks in hushed tones, but all anyone can do is watch as Eleanor wrestles with lifes cruel tides, a mother alone in the rain-soaked streets of England.
